


cherries and wine

by willouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: English is not my mother language, F/F, dunno, that goes for my lesbian ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willouis/pseuds/willouis
Summary: “I could sing you all the love songs and write poems about how beautiful red looks on you.”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	cherries and wine

I made red fruit tea and a lemon cake while you told me about life and I admired you wearing my shirt while you cook. You sing Lana Del Rey softly and I try not to fall in love anymore.

_ "Will you still love me _

_ When I'm no longer young and beautiful?" _

You cut the tomatoes and I open the bottle of wine. We could be those couples out of stereotypes on the internet. You look at me and I know you love me, but you never really told me.

I remember the first time I saw you at our mutual friend's party. Played _Lorde_ and you drank your beer and laughed with your friends sitting at the kitchen table. I wanted to laugh with you too, to know your favorite song, Singin' in the Rain, the taste of pizza you like the most, broccoli, a poem that made you cry. I wanted to be a part of your life, like I wanted you to be a part of mine.

_ "I'm sitting pretty on the throne _

_ There's nothing more I want _

_ Except to be alone” _

I was coming out of the bathroom and you at the door waiting, said Oi to me and came in. I told my friends in the next two weeks about this Oi of yours. I think they were one step away from cursing at me for just talking about you. 

It was at the restaurant with my friends and you were there with yours, and I was red with shame when we got together. You looked at me and I looked at you, but we didn't say a word.

I got up to go to the bathroom and you said you were going along, I almost knocked the chair down when I saw you getting up together. We kissed in the last cabin of the bathroom. I could describe your kiss as the explosion of a star, I could write a whole dissertation about it. I could sing you all the love songs and write poems about how beautiful red looks on you.

I came back to the table with more messy hair than when I'd gone out and you with your blouse wrinkled. We knew our friends knew, but nobody said anything.

We started dating two months later, with you asking me to date you in the candy aisle of the market and me holding two packs of snacks.

Now, you always wake up next to me, every week, like a big wave that always swallows me and pulls me closer. 

—

You're sitting on the kitchen counter and my fingers are playing inside you while you say things to the wind that I could hear for the rest of my days. I wanted us to stay this second forever.

You kiss me on the neck and your fingers are on me. I love every moment I spend with you, sleeping, talking, fucking, dancing... I could ask you to marry me right now.

You moan my name out of my ear, and if I died now, I'd die happy. You're a work of art that everyone can admire, but only I can touch. You crumble on my fingers and I go along with you pulling you closer. 

"I love you" you tell me still catching your breath. "Will you marry me?" 

You kiss me as if I'm going to disappear at any moment, but I won't. We'll have years ahead of us to dance Taylor Swift in the kitchen together and host our families for lunch.


End file.
